Fullmetal Alchemist: What's In a Name?
by Arkhaine
Summary: Shortish silly fic born from an amusing discussion with a friend of mine. What happens when Fuhrer Bradley gets stuck for inspiration?


"Congratulations. You're now the 'Snickers Bar Alchemist.'"

" …huh?"

Roy Mustang's scowl softened somewhat to a more chagrined look as he sat across from the newly-appointed State Alchemist seated in front of his desk, the latter still holding the proof of certification Roy had just handed to him.

"Sorry. It… happens every few years," Roy sighed as he explained. "Each State Alchemist is given an honorary title chosen by the Fuhrer that reflects his abilities. Normally, he does a fair job with them, but every now and again… "

--

_Fuhrer Bradley sat behind the desk in his office, tapping his pen against his teeth. After long moments of this, he rose to his feet and paced across the length of the room, his brow furrowed in thought. Eventually, he finally retook his seat, leaning far back in his chair and gazing at the ceiling with a heavy sigh._

_Nope. Still nothing._

--

" …you're joking," the new Alchemist said flatly.

"I'm afraid not." Mustang leaned forward, folding his hands in front of his face. "You've heard of Zolf J. Kimbley?"

"The Crimson Alchemist?"

"Right. Bombs are his specialty. He uses alchemy to compress metallic elements in his surroundings to create explosive compounds."

"Yeah?"

"So where in all of that," Roy asked simply, "do you get 'Crimson' from?"

" …you know, now that you mention it… " The new Alchemist trailed off, not having considered that before. "Then how did -- ?"

--

_Fuhrer Bradley paced back and forth across the length of his office, hands clasped behind his back, brow furrowed in thought. Drawing to a halt with a heavy sigh, he raised his head to peer absently at the red curtains framing his office window – _

_-- and immediately he brightened. "Ah-ha! I've got it!"_

--

" ….I see," the new Alchemist noted, sounding a little numb as he nodded slowly. "So then how did I -- ?"

"If I had to guess?"

--

_Fuhrer Bradley finally straightened up in his chair, drumming his fingers on his desk as he peered down at his wastebasket – _

_-- and immediately brightened as he spied the crumpled-up candy wrapper there. "That's it!"_

--

"Look, let's just figure out a new title for you," Roy decided, opening a desk drawer and drawing out a blank certification form, obviously having done this more than once. "You have my word this won't leave this office."

"That'd be great, thanks." The new Alchemist nodded, then blinked as another thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait! If the Fuhrer picked this title for me, won't he be mad if he finds out I've been given another one?"

--

_It had been many years ago when a much-younger and newly-appointed Roy Mustang would encounter Fuhrer Bradley in the hallway._

"_And you would be… ?" Bradley had inquired pleasantly. _

"_Lieutenant Roy Mustang, sir!" the young alchemist had replied, drawing up sharply and snapping a salute. "The Flame Alchemist? You approved my certification."_

"_Yes of course, Lieutenant Mustang!" Bradley said brightly, obviously not remembering. "Glad to have you with us."_

_It would only be a couple of years later when another chance meeting would have them encounter one another._

"_I'm sorry, what was that name again?"_

"_Major Roy Mustang, sir," the now-older alchemist replied, saluting with not quite as much enthusiasm as he had the previous time. "The Flame Alchemist?"_

"_Ah yes, of course!" Bradley replied cheerily. "Good to see you again, Major!"_

_And then not too long ago…_

"_And you are… ?"_

_This time instead of replying, Mustang had simply raised his glove to display the transmutation star and flame glyph set above it._

"_Ah, Colonel Mustang! The Flame Alchemist, yes of course! Good to see you again!" Bradley turned to the side. "And this would be – "_

_Alex Louis Armstrong said nothing, standing posed with both biceps poised and straining, muscles bulging as the air glittered around hm._

" – _Strongarm, good to see you again! And here – "_

_Edward Elric glanced over questioningly, holding his sleeve drawn back from his automail arm for some adjustment or other, the gunmetal finish gleaming in the office lights._

" – _Fullmetal, of course. Carry on, men!"_

_--_

"Trust me," Roy muttered as he bent over the blank form to write, eyebrow twitching slightly, "If it's not right in front of his face, the Fuhrer won't notice a thing."

"I see," the new Alchemist said lamely. And privately, wondered just what sort of person their country.


End file.
